What always should have been
by sleepingbutterfly
Summary: Oliver and Amelie's romance set after Black Dawn. Oliver finds just what he's been looking for.


It had been two weeks since Amelie killed the master Draug. Some days I still catch myself surprised that she survived. Her recovery had been remarkably fast considering how close to turning she had been.

When I look at her now, I wonder how I had ever hated her. Even hundreds of years ago when our battles for dominance had been almost constant, I should surely have seen her beauty, her capability of showing justice and fairness. I was right to hope to be even half as strong or fair as Amelie as a ruler. But ruling was not a priority now. For the moment I am content to stand by her, to protect and advise her. To serve her.

Though Amelie's recovery had been quick, she was occasionally suffering from some sort of relapse. After all, the Draug had nearly succeeded in something far worse than killing her. Perhaps I should have recognised the start of the relapse as she stood to move from behind her desk. Trust Amelie to look graceful even when sinking to her knees.

The change in her was instant; the reddening of her eyes and the lowering of her fangs would have been perceptible to all. I doubt, however, that the low growl that escaped her lips would have been audible to humans. I lowered my own fangs to my wrist almost instinctively. Where had this desire to protect Amelie come from? The sharp, jagged pain in my wrist quickly dulled to a tolerable ache as I started to heal.

Holding my wrist to Amelie's mouth, I expected her to drink hungrily and plentifully, as she had done so many times while succumbing to the Draug. But this time she was different – gentle – maybe even hesitant. Lowering her mouth to the wound, she began to suck. Slowly, so I could hardly feel the drawing of my blood through my veins. I could, however, feel her lips pressing against my skin, soft and warm. Expecting her eyes to be closed, but surprised to find that she was looking up at me, grey eyes gazing at my face, I didn't notice that she had stopped drinking until she kissed my wrist lightly, her gaze never leaving mine. I knew my own eyes would be heated; what was she doing?

'Amelie.' My voice was low and rasping. She had to stop or...

Turning my hand over she placed a hot, sucking kiss on my palm, before pushing herself to her feet. I would have sworn time had frozen; if my heart had still been beating in that moment it would have stopped. If her eyes were cold usually they were burning now, and I couldn't hold back. Pushing her back into the wall, my fingers pressed firmly into her arms, the look on her face was wanton. She whispered my name, caressing the sound with her mouth. How could I ever deny her?

My lips collided with hers with force, nibbling and sucking, hot and needy. Our hips were pressed tightly together, her hands tugging at my hair, pulling me closer than I had thought possible. Amelie was weaker than usual; I liked being stronger. Normally we were equal, but for now I had the edge, and having her in my arms only made me want her more. Judging by her moans Amelie was rather enjoying my strength too.

Her hands had left my hair now and were fumbling for the bottom of my shirt. Though she could have ripped it clean off my back I let her pull it over my head. I wasn't young when I became a vampire, but I had been fit and strong. I was glad of it now, as Amelie was running her hands over the hard plains of my chest, her head thrown back as I kissed along her neck, those same hot, sucking kisses that she had used before.

I was much more impatient with her blouse than she had been with my shirt. The buttons flew outwards as I tore the front and pulled the material from her arms. I stopped. In a thousand years I had never seen her in such a state of undress. Though I had realised before, I marvelled again in her beauty; her soft, pale skin and her small but perfect form. My hands, large and roughened from my human life, nearly enveloped her tiny waist. Suddenly, I felt physically very old. In terms of appearance, I was some thirty years older than Amelie, and there was a flicker of doubt in my mind. Surely I was not as attractive to her as she was to me. Amelie must have sensed my hesitation, for she kissed me gently, both hands on the sides of my face, before speaking in a voice stronger than I thought possible in this situation.

'Take what is yours, Oliver.'

Gods, did she know what she was doing with me? It didn't matter, she was mine now. Then my fangs lowered and I lost all control. Vampire speed and strength made our coupling very rough. But rough was good, we had too much history between us for love making, this was hot unadulterated sex, fulfilling our basest animal instincts. Amelie's trousers were a nuisance and they didn't last much longer, my own stayed. Apparently I look rather sexy in black leather.

Feeling Amelie's hands slide beneath my waistline, I latched on to her throat, right where her pulse should have been, and bit hard. Her head thrown back against the wall, longer hair cascading over her shoulders and breasts – she was perfect, brilliant and mine. Pushing my hot length inside her was in itself earth-shattering. What followed was even more so. I remember little but the feel of her body against mine, skin on skin, and her nails digging bloody crescents in my back.

When it was over I collapsed into her, the wall now supporting us both, our foreheads resting together. No words were necessary. It seemed like both an age and no time at all when we both moved again. Amelie was weary, exhausted even; she needed rest and I would make sure she got it. Hastily fastening my trousers and grabbing a blanket to wrap around her naked form, I picked her up in my arms. With her head resting against my bare chest I carried her out into the corridors, pausing briefly to wonder at what point the guards had left. Amelie's soundproofing must not have been as good as she thought.

Amelie's rooms were not far from the office, and though I knew the location I had never entered before. They were traditional, befitting the style of a lady living several centuries ago, perfect for my immortal angel. I lay next to her in her bed that night, watching her peaceful slumber before joining her in oblivion some time later. In the morning she was still there, wrapped in my arms and smiling contently. My realisation crept up on me slowly; it wasn't power or glory that I had desired all these long years, it was something much less selfish but much more satisfying. She had been staring right at me for all this time.


End file.
